Jaida R. L. Mack

Sometimes, things happen here or off-site while I'm asleep, and there's nothing but wreckage and whispers on the wind by the time I'm awake.

I know I shouldn't. I know it's social media brain poisoning that compels me. But I have to know what happened. So I kneel down in the dust, touch my fingers to the earth and murmur, "Something terrible happened here," then spend a decent portion of the day playing Colombo until I figure out what went down and realize the inevitable: Oh yeah, a dingus done did doofus stuff, da-doy. Good use of your time, Mack! You saved Christmas!

The Mackstery Machine would 100% be a Morris C8 Quad.

With or without the 25pdr hanging off the back, I'm not picky.

I had a job a long time ago, now, where the place was alright but the folks I got to work with were awesome. A random shout out has to go to my boss, who I quote on the regular: "Are you a knobhead professionally or is it just something you're really good at?"

i'm almost always going to talk mooself out of little treats here and there otherwise

like a "you get a treat, i'll get a treat, meet back here in 30 minutes" sorta goof
peer pressure each other into doing nice things for ourselves

Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it. Don't wait for it. Just let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the men's store, a catnap in your office chair, or two cups of good, hot black coffee.